


Camaraderie in Insomnia

by Bisexualtrashlord



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Gen, Literary References & Allusions, abigail is soft, flint and one of his adopted children, flint is sad, hope you like the odyssey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 21:23:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13303521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bisexualtrashlord/pseuds/Bisexualtrashlord
Summary: Abigail cannot sleep on her journey to see her father. Flint finds her. What follows is a discussion of Abigail's experiences, and a particular book.





	Camaraderie in Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again. I don't know about any of you, but the dynamic between Flint and Abigail was so interesting and I wanted them to talk more. But like I get that we were busy with other dumb pirate stuff. Anyway, I couldn't stop thinking about what Abigail feels being on the ship, and this is what came of it. James/Flint is referred to as Mr. McGraw cause that's how Abigail addresses him in the show. Hope you enjoy!

It was quiet now.

Abigail did not know pirate ships could be so quiet. From the stories her father and nanny would tell, ships run by pirates were always loud, wild and unhinged. Constant plunder and pillage and gunfire, never-ending death and danger. But now, she sits on the stern she sat on this afternoon, this time in the dead of night, with one lone man controlling the ship; the very tall, very quiet one. The only sounds around her were the low creak and rumble of the ship as it glided through the water, and the rustle of the flag when hit with a breeze. She closed her eyes, and let the sweet breeze kiss her hair, she inhaled the smell of salt that wrapped around her, feeling truly free for the first time in…she can’t even remember.

Abigail felt a chill run through her spine, wrapping the blanket she draped over her shoulders tighter, a gift from Lady Hami—Miranda. She remembered the terrifying haze she was in for days, only to be revived of that to be moved to a dark, dank belly of a fort, where a man thought money was more important than her life. Millions of thoughts ran through her head, the loudest one being if she would ever see the sun again, be outside again, breathe again. She wondered if she would ever stop being someone’s prisoner.  
But sitting on this ship, with the moon clear and the stars bright, with her skin feeling pure fresh air and smelling nature in what felt like years, Abigail began to feel freedom again, she felt as if she were returning to herself, slowly piecing together what it felt like to be human, to be alive.

She jumped at the light thump from behind her, her nerves rattling and turning to see who was approaching. Her nervousness dwindled—slightly—when she saw that it was Captain Fl—James McGraw—moving slowly to stand a few feet away from her.

“I did not mean to frighten you,” Mr. McGraw says, voice rough, trying to make his voice gentle for the girl.

Abigail shakes her head, her movement slightly fidgety, “I did not mean to jump,” she replies, her voice small.

“Are you alright?” he asks, keeping his movements slow as he walked towards her.

Abigail nods, “I could not sleep…I thought the air would clear my mind, but…I find my thoughts reeling now more than ever.”

Mr. McGraw thinks on this, and nods. “You wouldn’t be the first. Nature plays cruel tricks like that more than you know,” he says, cracking the tiniest hint of a thing that could qualify as a smile. Abigail’s shoulders relax further, and works up the courage to move over on the small bench she occupied, offering the captain a spot.

“I imagine this is all very overwhelming for you, these past weeks.” Mr. McGraw says, walking over and taking the seat the girl offered, keeping his movement slow. “I hope that this part is at least not as stressful,” said Mr. McGraw, turning slightly to face her.

Abigail nodded, “You have been very kind,” she said, eyes slightly downcast.

“Have you ever sailed like this before?” asked Mr. McGraw.

Abigail shook her head, “Never; my father always insisted I travel by carriage. My time on the Good Fortune was the first, and then…” she trailed off, pulling the blanket around her tighter, as the memories began to creep up again, her eyes finding the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Mr. McGraw said quietly. 

Abigail inhaled, “It is past me now,” she said, partially to herself. Her shoulders relaxed more when the memory drifted away.

“I have always wanted to sail on a ship. My father would tell me stories of the types of adventures people had at sea,” Abigail said.

“Is this how you thought it would be?” asks Mr. McGraw.

“It’s quieter than I imagined it, there are times of gentleness when I thought it would be louder. Is it like that often?” she asks, turning to look at Mr. McGraw. 

“Rarely, it’s usually louder, even at night. It’s noisy so often that one forgets what it feels like to be in silence.”

“Hmmm,” hummed Abigail.

They fell into a comfortable silence, an odd, subtle rapport beginning to grow between them. Both were content to let the noise from the ship do the talking for them. After a moment, Abigail caught a ribbon of color in Mr. McGraw’s lap. Glancing, she noticed a book in his hands, a deep blue thing with swirls of gold around the spine.

“What are you reading?” asked Abigail.

Mr. McGraw looked down as if he forgot about the book in his hands. “The Odyssey, have you ever read it?”

Abigail shakes her head, “I haven’t.”

“It is about a man who fought a long and terrible war, and is trying to get back home. But, heaven, earth, and the god of the sea himself refuses to let him go safely. He comes across monsters and witches and any other awful thing you could think of.” Mr. McGraw flipped through the pages until he found it, a terrifying, very detailed illustration of a terrible one-eyed creature, its eye fixated on the figure of a man below, who must be the leader of the tail, thought Abigail.

“This sounds like a tiresome ordeal, to be sure,” Abigail said, feeling something surge within her at her words. Mr. McGraw huffed a little, which Abigail saw to be some semblance of a chuckle from the weary captain.

“Yes, ten years at war, and ten years at sea can exhaust even the strongest men,” he said, the humor leaving his voice, eyes drifting toward the deck of the ship, losing himself briefly in thought. “Above it all, though,” Mr. McGraw begins, voice gruff, “above the monsters and magic, the story is about a man who wants to have peace. Peace from battle, from the sea, and longs for comfort, for a home. His need to get home to his family is what keeps him alive when other men might have given up.”

Abigail’s words were on the tip of her tongue, though she was afraid to ask the question, out of fear of how he would respond. But looking at him, and seeing the distant look on his face, as if he was thinking back years and years ago, Abigail’s curiosity was at its peak. So, she asked.

“Do…do you have someone you’re trying to go home to?”

Her voice was soft, showing she was open to any answer, and would not pry further. She watched intently as her question traveled to Mr. McGraw’s ears, and how he processed them. A strange look showed on his face then, as if every single emotion crossed him all at once; pain, anger, regret, all of them. 

“No. Not anymore.” Mr. McGraw croaked, trying to prevent any emotions from leaping out of him. His jaw tightened and loosened, and Abigail swore, if she looked hard enough, she could see his eye twitching.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Mr. McGraw said nothing, but nodded slightly, gaze still fixed on whatever was in front of him.

Abigail felt an urge to reach out and comfort the captain, to show that he was not alone with his thoughts, however dark, tonight. She inched her hand forward, just enough for her fingertips to barely touch the leather sleeve of his coat. He didn’t react to it, perhaps that was for the best. The ship spoke for them once more.

A few moments later, Mr. McGraw rose slowly from the seat.

“I should…I shouldn’t keep you awake like this, I’ll let you alone,” he said.

“No, I am fine. You were of great help, my thoughts are quieted now,” replied Abigail, rising as well, descending the small set of steps to the other landing.

“Get some sleep, if you can,” Mr. McGraw said, the smallest hint of softness that crept into his voice and eyes that gave Abigail pause.

“I will,” said Abigail. Mr. McGraw turned away from her and out to the sea, gazing into the deep navy of nighttime.

“Mr. McGraw,” Abigail called. He turned from the sea back to her.

“Thank you,” she said, a small smile coloring her face. Mr. McGraw nodded, and turned back towards the sea.

When she crawled into her hammock, she found that she no longer had the frayed nerves and jittery mind that she held an hour prior. Abigail drifted off to sleep quickly, her dreams filled with the man from the story Mr. McGraw told her about, eager to know how it ends. She also wanted to know, should they never meet again, how Mr. McGraw’s story would end. She hoped that, regardless of what happens, that it is a happy one.


End file.
